Chapter 24 Jessica
Jessica
I wash the carrots, the kitchen looking like a bomb went off. Kind of like my life at the moment.
“They’re late,” I grit out. My parents, who are supposed to be here already, haven’t arrived.
“I’m sure they are just stuck in traffic,” Aunt Vivian says, but I can hear the frustration in her voice.
Our usual Thanksgiving for three has expanded to six now that my parents and Donovan are all coming.
I had hoped my parents would be on time and here before Donovan’s arrival so we can all get used to each other again before introducing him to them.
They’ve been gone a long time, our calls less frequent than ever, almost like they’re strangers.
“They probably won’t even come.” I’m angry and now sulking.
I’m not sure why I do this to myself. They never do what I think they’re going to do.
While I had hoped that this time they would turn up when they said they would, they never have before.
I shouldn’t be surprised. But with Aunt Vivian spending more on food to accommodate everyone and Uncle Bobby getting a larger table and more chairs to fit the six of us, I feel responsible for all the extra effort they’ve put in.
All because of me. I’ve never given it too much thought before, but now that I'm older, I can see it.
The toll it takes on my aunt and uncle to accommodate the people who continually let everyone down.
“They’ll be here.” Uncle Bob walks into the kitchen, watching us. But his tone holds none of the carefree energy he usually brings, and I see my aunt and uncle share a look.
“Oh, look at you,” my aunt admonishes her husband, walking over to him where he stands in the doorway, his shirt buttons mismatched, and I grin.
She gets busy redoing his buttons as my uncle stands still, looking down at her adoringly.
Their love for each other is so heartwarming.
It’s a love that has stood the test of time, and I’ve always wanted a love like it.
I look at the clock, seeing it’s almost one, and I know Donovan will be here soon.
“Ooops…” my uncle says, and I look back at them and see him with a cheeky grin. My gaze moves upward to the artificial piece of mistletoe that hangs in the doorway that’s now right above their heads.
“Do you do that on purpose?” I ask, and he winks.
It isn’t the first time my uncle meets his wife under the mistletoe.
It’s been hanging there for years. They put it up when I was a kid, hanging it for Christmas one year when I was about twelve and never took it down.
It’s been cute seeing them share a small kiss every now and then, every time they find themselves in that exact same spot.
I used to dream that my Prince Charming would come one day and kiss me under the mistletoe.
I think about Donovan, knowing that my feelings for him are serious.
I knew I had a crush on him the moment we met.
But each and every day, whether we’re working together in the office, sitting near each other in meetings, or working the room at business events, my feelings have developed into something I’m scared to label.
“Maybe.” My aunt pecks a kiss onto his cheek and laughs.
“I can’t believe that’s still there.” She shakes her head, her grin wide, and I smile.
“I’m not taking it down either,” my uncle chuffs, and the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it.” I wipe my hands, throw the cloth on the bench, and head to the door. Unsure of who will be on the other side, I steel myself.
“Hey, am I late?”
My smile is wide and instant as Donovan looks like he rolled straight out of a magazine, holding a bottle of wine, a large bouquet of flowers, and a box.
“You’re not late. Come in.” I step toward him, kissing him quickly, and open the door farther for him to step inside. As I do, I notice a few photographers on motorbikes pull up, yet there’s no sign of my parents, so I close the door.
“They must have followed me.” His frown is deep. He hates my privacy being invaded by the media.
“They were bound to find this place sooner or later.” I haven’t read too many articles, but I know they all say the same things.
Donovan is hooked on a woman who isn’t anyone special.
That I lack the looks of a model that’s usually on his arm.
Some even discuss my position, me sleeping with the boss, but after the reports I’ve delivered to the board this month, I’m secure.
The rest is just rumors. Any other women might feel upset or angry.
But for some reason, I really don’t care.
I have the man, I have the job, and right now, on Thanksgiving, I’m really thankful for both.
My aunt and uncle walk out to greet him, and Aunt Vivian's eyes widen a little.
“Donovan.” My uncle steps forward to shake his hand.
“Nice to see you again. I brought you some wine.” He passes the bottle to my uncle as they shake hands. This feels good. Feels normal. Feels like a meet-the-parents moment, even though my parents aren’t even here.
“So lovely that you could join us,” my aunt offers, looking over the handsome billionaire who stands tall and proud in their house.
“Thank you so much for inviting me. These are for you. I appreciate you having me for such a special holiday.” He passes my aunt the large bouquet of flowers, and she blushes.
“Oh, you’re too kind.” She’s a little flustered, probably not having received such a large, beautiful bouquet in a while. Looking at me, she wiggles her eyebrows before mouthing he has kind eyes, and I roll my lips, hiding the grin. She likes him.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll open the bottle so it can breathe,” Uncle Bob says.
“Jay Jay, show him around. I’ll get the carrots on.” My aunt and uncle disappear back into the kitchen.
“Here. Something for you.” He hands me the box.
I frown. “You didn’t need to get me anything.” I’m surprised that he's giving me a gift.
“I know. I wanted to.” I pull the lush thick black ribbon and open the box.
Aside from the beautiful scarf he gifted me weeks ago, and the wardrobe full of clothes, I haven’t received a gift like this ever.
No man has ever turned up and given me a gift just because.
I try to be gentle as I open the black box and then pause.
“Ohhh… my gosh.” Diamond earrings sparkle so bright they look almost like icicles.
“When I saw them, they made me think of our time in the snow at Lake Placid.”
My chest warms, eyes watering. “You shouldn’t have… They’re beautiful… It’s too much…”
“Get used to it,” he says matter-of-factly, and I smile.
“I don’t expect this kind of thing. I’m not with you because of your money,” I try to tell him, needing him to know that his financial circumstances are not his most attractive quality.
“I know. That’s one of the reasons I love you,” he says easily, and we both still. Did he just say love? He looks like the words are choking him, his cheeks blooming red. My heart almost trips over as my eyes remain wide, and even though I try to talk, I can’t.
“I… uhhh…” he says, clearing his throat just as the doorbell rings. Their timing is impeccable.
I swallow. Take a deep breath. He loves me? Donovan loves me? He drops a bomb like that, and I’m meant to just carry on like my world just didn’t spin on its axis?
“Are they here?” Uncle Bob pokes his head out, and Donovan steps back a little. I’m caught in complete shock, looking at the handsome billionaire who now looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole and the stiffness of my uncle's shoulders as he stares at the front door like it’s evil.
“Let me get it,” I rush out.
Donovan runs his hand through his hair, looking ruffled, and I open the door, my hands a little shaky and still holding the box as I look at my parents for the first time in what feels like years.
“Ohhh, there she is.” My father grins.
“Heeeyyy… Dad.” I feel awkward. He looks more weathered than I remember, a little gray. His hair is in need of what looks like both a cut and a wash.
“Jay Jay…” My mom looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. I mean, I guess I’ve changed. Grown up somewhat. We stand silent for a moment, and I take another steadying breath.
“Mom.” I push my glasses up, lean in, and hug her with one hand, my other holding on to the box of diamonds I’m scared to let go of.
“What’s that?” My father looks at the sparkling jewelry that catches in the sun.
“Oh, a gift.” I place the lid on the box quickly.
“Gift?” My mom looks at me with a pinched brow.
“From Donovan. My boyfriend.” I step back into the house as they walk in and look up to see Donovan standing tall next to Uncle Bob. The two of them are of similar height and build, both eyeing my parents warily.
“Bob.” My father shakes his hand.
“Clayton.” Uncle Bob’s handshake is firm.
“It’s Clay.”
I frown. “Did you change your name?” I haven’t heard the nickname before.
“Oh, he’s been Clay forever.” My mom steps into the house and looks around. She seems more weathered too. I guess the outdoorsy lifestyle will do that to you.
“Are you still Susan or…” Uncle Bob asks as I glance at Donovan, who’s watching everyone and everything fiercely.
“Sunny.” I try not to roll my eyes. They haven’t changed.
Still free spirits, moving through life like a breeze, not taking anything seriously, not having any responsibilities.
I always thought it was adventurous, an amazing lifestyle, but now that I'm older, I’m angry.
Angry that they left me. Angry that they continue to just flow in and out of my life without any real love, care, attention, or focus.
“This is Donovan.” They look at him like he’s the devil. I knew they would. He’s the epitome of everything they hate. A strong, tall, handsome man who’s well put together and clearly has money.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Donovan extends his hand toward my father, and my father takes it. Barely.